


Umbrella

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Death, Emotional Hurt, Friendship, Helpful Greg, Hospital, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mycroft having a hard time, Mycroft is back, Mycroft's Umbrella, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The umbrella was useful after all, Young Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 09:51:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: This a story about Mycroft's traumatic experiences during his early years. What he had to endure from his roommates, his narrow escape from death. When starting university, his kidnapping by a secretive club, turns out rather well. He found friends, and also learns that caring is not an advantage.Later he tries to look after Sherlock, but because of him he looses a big opportunity. He has to work under one of his former roomates, things are not going well for Mycroft, but after a while they take a turn. Finally Mycroft end's up being the Brithis government.





	1. Chapter 1

He hated the place, but this was his last year here. Soon the torment will end. He had no idea what was awaiting him as he stepped in to his new room. Five other boys already occupied the room, all from his new class. He tried to greet them according the social niceties, but his words only met deaf ears. 'Well it's going to be pleasant.'   
The year passed, the daily routines remained. Harsh words, occasional beatings, stolen homework, clothes, destroyed books. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. Finally Christmas came. He hoped for a good time with his little brother, but Sherlock was in a bad mood during the holiday. He barely spoke; he confined himself to his room. Mycroft left home disappointed. “Only few more months” he told himself as he walked in the cold and quite January evening. He shouldn’t be out this late, but no one cared, anyways. He was totally lost in his thoughts when they grabbed him.

"Shhh. Be quite Freak. We just want to play a little game. Don’t worry it's going to be so much fun. You gonna enjoy it too." his roommates said while dragging him in the direction of the unused wing of the school. The others were all there waiting. Once inside they took off his clothes, tied his hands, and they stuck a cloth in his mouth.   
"Well freak. You thought we forget about your Christmas present?" He was forced to the ground, and kept in position by two of his roommates. His body was shaking, he was struggling, but his movements only earned him two kicks to his abdomen. The leader of the gang was the first. Mycroft struggled, and screamed, to their delight. One followed the other, and his screams turned in to whimpers, his body was numb, and tears rolled down his face. Once all five of them had enough fun, they left him.  
"It’s useless trying to tell it to anyone. No one will believe you. For once do the right thing." said dropping a rope in front of him, and then they left laughing. 

Mycroft was just lying there curled up to a tight ball staring at the rope. Quite some time passed, when his senses started to work again. First he felt the pain, then the cold. Finally he managed to get up, and got dressed. He stepped out to the freezing night. He had no intention to return to his room. They were right; there was no point in asking for help. Keeping his eyes to the ground, he walked in to the woods surrounding the school. Somehow, he managed to walk all night. The rising sun found him in the middle of nowhere exhausted, dehydrated. He was too tired to register which way was he going. One bad step and he found himself in a creek. Soaked in freezing water, he crawled out of it. He just lied down; he gave up.   
'No one will miss me. Mummy and daddy only care about Sherlock. They will forget me easily. They might even be happy. I couldn’t be the son they wanted.' These and similar thoughts were crossing his mind. Until his body gave up, and he slid in to unconsciousness.

 

Uncle Rudy sat in his office. His desk covered with files he should read before the meeting. But he couldn't concentrate, something wasn’t right. Every morning Mycroft called him. They had an agreement. It was 10 o' clock, and still nothing. He put aside the file, and dialed the school. He was shocked when the principal told him, that his nephew was missing.  
"Nothing to worry about Sir. Boys at this age often disappear for a time. Anyway they supposed to have a history test today, I think he’s just hiding from it. I can assure you he will turn up at dinner. Good day to you." not waiting for an answer the principal put the phone down. Uncle Rudy knew; that’s not what happened. He started to organise a search. He put his best people to find him.

 

Mr.B was on his usual round. His dog Daisy running around in the snow. They checked and reloaded the feeders, put out new traps, cleared some obstacles from the path. Walking by the creek Daisy stopped abruptly. Ears up, franticly sniffing around, then she started to run. Mr. B followed her, his hunting rifle in his hand. He lost her for a moment, and then he heard her barking. She was standing next to something black. He stepped closer, to found a half frozen boy in the snow. He was unconscious but still breathing, thank God. He picked him up gingerly, and they headed home. He walked as fast as he could in thick snow. When they arrived to the hunters lodge, he put him down in front of the fireplace, collected some dry clothes and all the blankets he could found. Once the boy was dry buried under thick blankets in front of the fireplace, he called to the town’s police station.  
"Hello John it’s me Fred from the woods. Listen I found a boy around 14 years old, half frozen to death by the creek."  
"Who is it?"  
"I don’t know his not talking, he hasn't come around yet. Can you come up with the truck? He needs to be in a hospital."  
"Sure."  
"Thanks."  
Mycroft briefly woke once during that time, and then he quickly drifted back to the land of nightmares. His temperature was rising rapidly, and he started to talk in his feverish dreams. From the fragments, and the screams Fred was able to put the story together. He did not like what he was hearing. When John arrived an hour later, he recognised the boy immediately. All the surrounding towns got a photo of Mycroft, with an order, to call a number as soon as they located him. He phoned right away.   
"Morning Sir! Sergeant H. from F. We found the missing boy."  
"Is he all right?"  
"No I’m afraid he isn't. He nearly froze to death. He was lucky the hunter found him. We are taking him in to the hospital. We'll be there in about an hour."  
"An hour!!"  
"I know Sir, I am sorry but the roads are pretty bad up here. Goodbye."  
"Who was that?" asked Frank.  
"His uncle. He ordered all the stations around to find the boy. He is some kind of big dog in the government. But let's go we shouldn't waste time. "

They put him in the truck covered in blankets. By the time they go to the hospital uncle Rudy had also arrived. Mycroft's temperature was high; he most likely had pneumonia, few minor frost bites, and quite a lot of bruises. Once he saw that Mycroft was in good hands, he went to talk to the hunter.  
"Thank you Mr.B. Thank you very much."  
"I m happy I could help. But if it wasn't for Daisy I would never found him . There are a few things I would like to discuss with you. Mostly he was sleeping, but started to talk, and scream quite a lot. I might be able to tell you what happened. It is obvious he was beaten, by his roommates. But there is more. I fear it wasn't just beating, I think...well... he was assaulted. You know...He.... " he struggled with the words in a very low voice.  
Uncle Rudy needed no more explanation. He left immediately to the school. Things weren’t as easy as he planned. The five culprits denied everything. The principal was at their side, and their illustrious parents were called in. There was no way they will believe anything Mycroft would have to say. He only managed to take the boy out of that wretched place. Small victory, but it will save his life. The others, well he will have to deal with them in other ways...  
Mycroft awoke the next day. He was quite surprised, and disappointed to be alive. His senses were numbed by the medication. He attempted to catalogue his injuries. He vaguely felt the chest pain, and the shortness of breath, most likely pneumonia. He had bandages in his hand and leg, maybe frostbites. Possible. He opened his eye. Uncle Rudy was sitting next to the bed, looking tired, and worried.  
“Good morning Mycroft. You had us worried. You are in a hospital. Don’t worry you are in safe hands, far from that wretched place. I know what happened, and I am so sorry. I’m here for you, whatever you need, just let me know. I didn’t tell it to your mother; I did’t think it will benefit us. Now sleep, you need lots of rest young man.”  
Mycroft drifted back to sleep. The days passed, his body got stronger, but he wasn’t talking. They couldn’t get a word out of him. Everybody tried; nurses, doctors, his uncle, psychologist, psychiatrist, Mr. B. with Daisy, but nothing. He fully recovered from the pneumonia, but the question remained should they keep him in, until he speaks again? Finally they decided against it, so he went home with his uncle.

 

Uncle Rudy was barely home, so he was left with his housekeeper. She was an older grandma like sweet lady. In the first few days Mycroft barely left his room, he wasn’t eating properly either. Mrs.White didn’t mind his silence; she was talking enough for the both of them. One morning she found his room empty. She searched the whole house, but nothing. She was about to call Uncle Rudy, when she heard some noise. It was coming from the garden. Outside hidden by the hortenzia bush she found Mycroft. He was crying, and had several cuts in his arms, caused by a broken glass, none of them was serious. She sat down, hugged him tightly. They were sitting there until Mycroft stopped crying.  
“Come on dear, let’s get you inside. We need to clean those wounds.“ She said. They got in, she cleaned, and put bandaged his hands.  
“Thank you.” Said Mycroft.  
“You are welcome dear. Come on we need a good cup of tea, and how about some pie too.”  
Slowly, but Mycroft started to talk again, first only to Mrs. White, later to his Uncle too. But he never spoke about that night.


	2. Chapter 2

Next year he started University, in Oxford. He decided to study Political science and languages. He had his own room, and kept to himself, classes, library, back home. One night he was coming home late from the library. The weather was warm, so lots of people were out. Suddenly he was grabbed, by two cloaked boy, they started to drag him. He froze immediately, he couldn’t move, couldn’t call out for help. Not that anyone cared about him being dragged.

“Shhh, be quite. We just want to play a little game. Don’t worry it s going to be fun.”

They took him to a room. The room was full with freshmen, and a few cloaked figures. He was panicking, nothing made sense, he didn’t know who they were, what they wanted. When they entered the leader of the group came to greet him, the other two let him go. As soon as he was free, he started to look for a hiding place. There was a coat of armour in a nook, perfect. He grabbed the sword, and crawled behind it. This created a bit of confusion in the group, everyone wanted to see, what is going on. He was sitting there sword in hand, tears in his eyes, fear clouding his mind. The leader of the group, Christopher was in deep discussion with one of the freshman. After that he hastily cleared the room, took of his cloak, and mask, and sat opposite of Mycroft.

“Hello Mycroft. My name is Christopher. A fellow schoolmate of yours just told me about you. I am so sorry, I had no idea. Our club has this tradition. We collect potential candidates, put them through tests to decide if they are worthy of the membership. I would like to apologies again.” He waited for Mycroft to process it. When he got no answer he continued. “We do not hurt people. We meet every week, to discuss different matters, old ones, current world situations, anything. The club isn’t big, very few people get in, and we only select the greatest minds. That is why I had you brought here. I do not want to harm you...I would like to offer a trade. You give me the sword, and I give you this umbrella. I know it doesn’t sound like a fair trade, but it’s not a simple umbrella. It has a sword and a gun in its handle.” Mycroft slowly put the sword down, and took the umbrella. Christopher took the sword away, and fetched some bandages, and even tea. He went back to Mycroft. “I brought you some tea. And if you let me I would like to take a look at your hand, you’ve cut yourself.” He said coming closer, and closer. Mycroft looked down to his hand realising, he indeed has a cut, when he looked up Christopher was sitting right next to him. “May I?” He decided it would be best to let him bandage it. When he finished he offered him tea. They were sitting there drinking tea in silence. Noises were coming from the next room, a loud laughter made Mycroft spill his tea. “There is nothing to worry about. Just the others are having fun. You are safe here. I promise no one will hurt you.” Silence fell again.  
Mycroft’s mind started to clear out. He even put down the umbrella-sword-gun, nice concept, he quite liked it. “Whose umbrella is it?”  
“Mine, it was a present from my father”  
"Liar."   
“What?”  
“You live with your mother; she raised you on her own. You have been working from an early age, to help out. You still work at a bakery in the mornings and at the papers after school. You are homosexual. This is your first year at being the leader of your precious club. The umbrella was your predecessor's, who got it from his. You are clearly intelligent enough to hold two jobs, and study, so why are you lying to me?”  
Christopher didn’t know what to answer to that. How? Who is this boy? Even under tremendous stress he was able to read him like an open book.  
“I...I ‘m sorry. It won’t happen again.” He muttered. “Any more questions?” Mycroft didn’t answer. “Well if not, then care to join the others in the next room. It’s much warmer there, we have more tea, and some food too. Don’t worry no one will bother you.”  
“I would like to go home now.” Mycroft whispered.  
“I m sorry but that is just out of the question. I won’t let you go home alone in this state. No, you come to the next room; I’ll set up a nice and comfortable armchair for you in the corner. And when it is over I’m going to take you home. I promise.” Mycroft knew that he was right. It wouldn’t be wise to stay alone tonight.

In the next room, all the boys were engaged in heated discussions. The evening was going on. Christopher put Mycroft in the corner, and disappeared, to tend to his other duties. As he promised no one bothered him, except once, when his old schoolmate brought him tea. As the evening turned into night, the cloaked figures retreated, to discuss the future members. He only hoped it won’t take long, he was really tired, and most of the candidates were just waste of air. Mycroft nearly fall asleep, by the time they got back. The list was short. Two names. He was quite surprised; he stood up to decline the offer. But Christopher was by his side before he could open his mouth.  
“There is no way you're backing out of it Mycroft. You are one of us now. We meet here every Thursday at 7p.m. Please do not be late. I don’t care what you do, once you are here. You can sit in the corner, drinking tea, not saying a word. Just be here. Come on, you are exhausted, time to go home.”

 

They walked in total silence. Mycroft had no intention of coming back here next week. Unfortunately Christopher knew that, because next Thursday he was at his door. And he didn’t take no for an answer. He had his chair set up in a shadowed corner, and stared hatefully to the others. They were having an argument about some major issue, well they thought. In reality it was insignificant, just a distraction, but they didn’t see that, no one did. Mycroft had enough of the blabbing, quietly stood up, and walked to the light. Everyone fell silent. He started to talk, trying to explain them the situation. There was no disruption, they all listened. When he finished he returned to his seat, and let them process the information. After that no one had the mood to continue, so they meeting was over. As leaving he overheard a sentence “Now I understand why he is here.”  
To his own surprise and to the delight of Christopher he came back the next week. He started to interact with other members not only at the meetings. Finally he had people around him, who he can call friend. The four of them became somewhat inseparable. Christopher, Paul, Charles, and Mycroft. No one would mess with them.

 

Mycroft was in his second year. He was walking home from the train station, when two figures emerged from the shadows, one of them grabbing him tightly.   
“Remember us Freak? Well look at you, all suited up, thing are going well for you I presume. You little prick. You and your uncle destroyed our life, our parent’s reputation. It wasn’t easy finding you, he hid you quite well. But it’s payback time.” He took out a pipe and started to hit him. He put all his hatred in to it. He continued until Mycroft passed out, then they dropped him, he couldn’t resist delivering more kicks to the lifeless body. This delay was their undoing. The police was out in a training exercise. They were caught easily. Mycroft was rushed to the hospital. They operated on him for hours. They weren’t sure if he would survive the day. But he did, and the next too. Then the next question emerged, will he wake up, and if so will there be any damage. After a week in intensive care, he finally opened his eye. To everyone’s relief he was all right. He had many visitors during his stay. His uncle was here every second day. His parents visited him regularly; they even managed to bring Sherlock with them once. His friends were always there. They even had to fight with the nurses to let them stay. The night before he was released, Christopher visited him.  
“I brought you a present. I want you to have it. I want you to take it with you where ever you go. Promise me you never part from it” He said as he gave the umbrella to Mycroft. “Promise me?”   
“I promise.”

 

To no one’s surprise Mycroft finished school early. He was walking with Christopher to his very last celebratory meeting. They were too preoccupied to register the group of men standing in front of them. They were quickly surrounded. Mycroft heart skipped a beat, at the realization that he left his umbrella in the room. They grabbed him, and tied him up. But they weren’t interested in him. They waited for Christopher, immediately starting to hit him.  
“You filthy animal. You don’t deserve to walk in these grounds. Don’t you dare looking at me, you pig. Your kind has to be eliminated.” At that statement, he pulled out a gun from his pocket, and shot Christopher, dropped the gun and they run away. Mycroft was lying there tied up, staring at Christopher blood covered face. He couldn’t call out for help.  
Paul, and Charles were already looking for them. They were the one to alert the police. Paul untied him, and dragged him out of the pool of blood. He was crying, Mycroft couldn’t cry. When the police arrived, he gave them detailed description of the offenders, and even told them where to found them. They were about to put Christopher’s body in to the coroners van, when he snapped. He grabbed his hand and didn’t let anyone take him away. Four policemen had to drag him away, his screams echoing from the surrounding buildings. He wouldn’t stop screaming, and struggling. So eventually they had to sedate him. 

When he came around, he was surprised, to find himself in his uncle’s house. He wasn’t alone. Paul was sitting next to his bed.  
“Morning. You are in London Mycroft, in your uncle’s house. Charles and I are here to. It’s Saturday morning. You were out for quite a while. Your uncle asked us to come and stay with you, and we thought it would be the best for all of us. The police found the whole gang; they were exactly where you said they’ll be. The funeral will be on Monday at 3p.m.” He stopped talking, and hurried out of the room. Mycroft could hear his sobs from the corridor. The days passed slowly, he was barely awake.  
The Monday was rainy, suiting weather for a funeral. There were quite lots of people there. Mycroft couldn’t bring himself to join the mourners. He stood far from the crowd, just when he was alone, he approached the grave. He fall to his knees, the tears were rolling down his face. There were so many things he wanted to tell him. How thankful he was that he got him kidnapped all those years ago, how he, they helped him. How he misses him. And how he hates him for the pain he feels. But above all of that, how he hates himself for leaving the umbrella at home, not being able to protect him, to save him. He was kneeling there until his tears dried out. He stood up, looked at the grave one last time.

 

“All lives end, all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage.”


End file.
